


Dark Chocolate and Sea Salt

by Achrya



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Blood, F/F, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:45:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2714357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Wrathion has a hundred worlds laid out before him, a hundred choices and a hundred outcomes, and he’ll watch them all play out. Not for himself, not for the planet, but for a certain golden haired prince. He will do whatever it takes to make Anduin his. (Basically a lot of little short stories about various Anduins and Wrathions. Genderswaps, role swaps, non-con, dub-con, and basically a little everything.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Slash, Het, non-con, fluff, dark, twisted, light, humor...basically everything.   
> Notes: Some spoilers for the latest Warcraft Novel/the outcome of Garrosh’s trial/WoD.

Prelude

The hourglass fell and chaos surged forth. Wrathion watched it all unfold, sighing as his plans came to fruition. He saw the many twisted forms of the Horde and Alliance’s heroes stumble forth through the many tears to other worlds that had been opened up and the battle that ensued. He sent a mental command to his champion, the eyes through which he saw the scene, to seek out Stormwind’s prince. 

He sighed and leaned back in his seat, a strange tightness settling in his chest. 

He’d set in motion Garrosh’s escape. Left and Right had freed the Orc at his behest, Kairoz had shuttled said Orc off to another timeline and left behind these specific tears to keep the leaders and heroes of Azeroth busy. Every tear served a purpose beyond just buying time however, they were also there to teach. A mad version of Lady Proudmoore, a Vol’Jin who would allow power to go to his head, a Kalecgos drowning in his own inability to act...they were images of what could be and what must never be, for the sake of Azeroth. 

“There.” A clawed hand reached past him and tapped the glass of the mirror they were watching through lightly. Wrathion saw, for a moment, the blond teen he’d come to think of as his ‘friend’. Anduin was towards the edge of the melee, throwing holy light to heal and shield with surprising skill,

His champions gaze shifted and another version of Anduin filled the glass; taller, older, regal. A king. There was a soft almost wistful sigh behind Wrathion and he turned just slightly to face the source. 

It was him, of course. An older version of him, with madness bubbling just barely contained in brightly glowing eyes. This version of him was paler drawn, scales creeping over the human visage and even starting to crack in some places, allowing wisps of fire and smoke to peek out. It was, from what he understood, not at all unlike how his father had been at the end. 

“This is your Anduin?” He asked but he knew the answer was no. This Anduin was King of Stormwind, High King of not just the Alliance, but the Unified Races. Under him the Horde and Alliance would come together, finally and completely. A noble figure, a priest the likes of which had never been seen before, he could wade into battle and wield the light and shadow better than his father had worked a sword. 

The other him, the version of Wrathion that had gone so far in his desire to protect the planet and it’s people that he’d all but succumbed to madness and now spent his days being hunted by yet another version on Anduin (one nearly as mad as this Wrathion was), hissed quietly. He scrapped his claw over the glass slightly then withdrew, sinking into the shadows as if he’d never been there at all. 

“You know I never cared for him.” Another him, this one a woman of breathtaking beauty with dark skin, pale reddish-brown eyes, and long black hair, arranged in careful curls, leaned against his desk. She was dressed in a clingy dress of gold and blue, wore jewels, and had a delicately crafted crown atop her head, as befit the Queen of Stormwind. Her hands rested on the noticeable swell of her stomach lightly. “He is the worst of us. His madness is disgusting.” 

The king in the glass was her Anduin, a man who would marry her in spite of opposition and potential civil war. She would carry this child, this future Queen or King, like a mortal woman would because, in her words, it would be bad form for their first born to come from an egg. She was smart, careful, and a game player. 

She was much like Lady Prestor that way.

“Are we so different?” Wrathion asked, taking his eyes away from the woman. “Couldn’t we all go mad?”

Warm breath caressed his ear as she leaned in and whispered huskily. “Aren’t you already there?”

That was an interesting counterpoint. He had, after all, gone mucking about in not just the time stream but in the very fabric that separated one potential world from another. He’d sat looking into this very glass, seeing a hundred different worlds play out and watching himself live, die, fail, and succeed a dozen times over. This were different, both in big and small ways, and was he not obsessed with crafting the perfect world? 

Moreover wasn’t he obsessed with him, that blond haired prince who was always at the center of his world? For every Wrathion there was an Anduin and every Anduin was tangled up in the choices he, or was it they or maybe them, made. 

In the glass King Anduin stood before his teenage counterpart, lips moving. Wrathion was curious about what was being said, about what his queenly counterpart has told her husband to say. She was him and so he knew better than to assume she’d stuck to the plan or would do anything that didn’t benefit, or at least amuse, her. 

After all, had she not arranged for the murder of Varian so her lover could assume the throne. Anduin didn’t know, would perhaps never know, but much about his reign was due to the careful manipulations of the woman who loved him. 

That was who they were. They would kill, lie, and shape the world to their own ends. He’d seen the proof.

Was he mad?

Probably 

Did it matter? 

No. Nothing mattered, excepting building the perfect world and ensuring that Anduin Wrynn would stand besides him at the end. That was their destiny, their fate, forever intertwined. He’d seen in a hundred times.

 

000000000

Anduin stared up at the man who could only be him; older and wise, face and eyes hard. For a moment the fighting around them meant nothing and it was as if they’d somehow shifted into a world where they were all that existed. 

“There is nothing more dangerous than a dragon in love.” The older him said finally. “You should hold him close, but know he would sooner kill you then let you go. Or would remake the entire world if needed.”


	2. Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wratharia has accomplished many things on the road to being queen of the allied races and yet as she looks down at her first child she is...disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Het, Gender swap, vauge thoughts of infanticide, a little naughty touching.

000000000000000

Human   
0000000000000000

Wratharia stood over the cradle of her daughter, considering the small blond infant. Tiffany Wrynn was very...human. More human than her mother had expected, to be totally frank. There was nothing that marked her as half dragon, save reptile like crimson eyes. One would never suspect she’d been the product of Wratharia, the Earth Warder, and arguably the most powerful dragon left on Azeroth. 

To be honest it was kind of disappointing. She didn’t even have wings and showed no signs of being able to shift into a proper dragon form. How could her child be so common? 

“You’ve got that calculating look in your eyes.” The familiar voice of her husband brought her out of her silent contemplation. She glanced over her shoulder to find the man standing in the doorway, regarding her with a look that could only be called suspicious. 

She scowled. “Why do you look at me like that?”

He walked towards her, hands reaching out in a show of gentleness. She knew better, knew her king so very well, but allowed herself to be touched. His hands found her hips, drawing her closer until his body was molded against her back and despite herself a thrill went through her body. 

“She’s very human.” She said finally, eyes once again finding her daughter. The baby was awake, but showed a calmness Wratharia understood was rare among human infants. She didn’t cry much at all and seemed to want very little. “I wonder if choosing to have a mortal pregnancy caused this.” 

“Is being human so bad Aria? Won’t this be better for politics? People were whispering all manners of tales about what horrors you might birth.” 

She scoffed. “Because they are foolish. She was supposed to be a show of the union of the mortal races and dragons, proof to those who still oppose our marriage that a blending can, and will, work. Better she had been both, truly both, and not...human. If only we could toss her out and try again.”

Anduin squeezed her hips just hard enough to make her hiss in pain. His fingertips dug in, even as his voice lowered to a whisper that twisted her stomach and brought dampness between her legs. “Aria. If I ever thought, for even a moment, you would do harm to our daughter I would take your head and put it on display where your sister’s used to be.” 

“Is that right, My King?” Aria asked, breath hitching just so. He somehow pulled her closer still, arms wrapping around her in an embrace that was both loving and threatening at the same time. Her king, the great warrior priest who had stood before the Burning Legion, united all the race, and married a black dragon. He was both hailed as a kind hero with a healing touch and cursed as a brutally efficient and uncaring fighter. 

Hard to believe the naive boy she’d played board games with had become this man but, then, when King Varian had been tragically murdered by humans claiming to worship the Legion everything had changed.

Which was why she’d had the former king murdered, after all. Anduin had been too soft, too kind, and a cruelty had need to emerge from within him if he was to be the king she’d known he could be. Kindness did not win wars or protect worlds. Wratharia had needed him to become hard, to be willing to make hard choices, and with her careful planning that’s what he had become.

It hadn’t been easy. More than a few racial leaders had been made to bow and some (like a certain banshee queen) had simply been eliminated. Many battles had been fought to bring people under heel. Some called Anduin a tyrant and she the tyrant’s puppet master, the string puller, the assassin, the whore. 

She cared little about such things though, as long as most called him ‘King’. 

There was still much work to be done, of course, and producing worthy heirs was part of that work.

“Yes.” He nuzzled then nipped at her neck. 

She had no doubt that he meant every word. 

She wriggled about, managing to turn so she could face him. He pushed her back just a bit, until her bottom connected with the baby’s cradle. There was a soft gurgle from within but otherwise nothing. “I suppose we shall keep this one. Mind you I could give you many eggs to choose from if you wanted, there is no need to be so attached.” 

Anduin hummed quietly as his hands found their way under her nightgown. She groaned quietly as rough fingers ghosted over her thighs. 

“I think I would be attached to every egg. But if you wish we could try to make as many eggs as you like.” 

“So human.” She murmured. Even with all her work he was so woefully human. He just smiled and placed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Then he withdrew his hands, much to her dismay, and turned his attention to the cradle and the infant inside. Aria watched, eyes narrowed, as he drew the baby out, reaching out to adjust the angle that he held Tiffany slightly. 

Once satisfied she stood beside her husband and once again peered down at the small child. Tiffany stared back then yawned, tiny mouth opening wide, and a wisp of smoke curled up from her nose. Aria couldn’t help a small smile from curving her lips. 

Maybe not totally human after all. 

0000

Wrathion waved a hand, dismissing the image in the glass. What had he learned, what could he take from that to build his own perfect outcome? His other, Wratharia, had helped mold her Anduin into a warrior and a kind, had forced him to become stronger and to shed his childish ideals

Surely he could do that as well. 

Of course his odds of becoming queen and being able to legitimately restore his flight as heirs were slim, 

...but not impossible.


	3. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrathion wants to keep him forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some spoilers for the latest Warcraft Novel/the outcome of Garrosh’s trial. Basically a series of one shots/alternate worlds and many forms of W/A  
> This Chapter features non-con and unpleasantry. Just warning you.

Wrathion sat in his throne, considering the message Right had brought him. The humans and the forsaken were still warring, though the forsaken were drawing low on numbers now that their queen had been destroyed and the other races had taken to burning their dead to prevent reanimation. Wrathion predicted the forsaken would be down to extinction numbers within 2 or 3 years, at most.

The hit to the humans would also be considerable, when it was all said and done, but humans would always produce more humans so it wasn’t worth mourning the loss of life. 

So much death over one little prince. The Banshee Queen had, in an act of vengeance against her sister, taken the young prince of Stormwind and cursed him with undeath. It was an act so vile that the Horde could do no longer stand beside her or her people. The Alliance response had been swift and brutal and once the Forsaken leader lay in pieces all should have been done. But the High King stood on the edge of something dark and, in that darkness, had decided to wipe out all of the Forsaken. The other Alliance races had withdrawn, one by one. They still offered their support and were united, but could not condone wholesale genocide. 

All of this worked well for Wrathion’s plans. Sylvanas had been an uncontrollable piece on the playing field and having her removed suited him just fine.. More than that the role he’d played, offering advice and information and, in the end, dragging the Dark Lady herself before the king had won him a lot of favor in the human kingdom. He’d also convinced the Alliance to not lash out at the other Horde races, which had won him some points with the other faction. When the time came they would come when he called and defend the planet as a unified force.

All because of one little human prince. 

He dismissed Right then rose from his throne. He’d taken over Blackrock mountain, deciding that there was some benefit to having his own domain and it was his by right of inheritance, really. His followers now roamed the place, growing in number all the time. Soon he’d consider branching out and claiming the lands around his home. He doubted he’d meet much opposition. With time, and support from the Alliance and Horde alike, he’d build his own kingdom. It wouldn’t be based in race, but in loyalty, and would never rival Stormwind or Orgrimmar, but that was for the best. 

He’d even begun to enact a plan to restart the Black dragonflight, pure and untainted. 

He’d taken over the room the two headed abomination his brother had created had once inhabited for his bedchamber. Clearing out the bones and gore had been a chore, but it’d come already set up with it’s own cage and chains. It was simply too convenient to pass up. 

Left stood outside, guarding his most prized possession as she always did while he was handling the mundane diplomatic duties and concerns of his followers. 

“How is my pet today?” 

Left frowned ever so slightly, but if it was at his words, the situation, or his pet’s undoubtedly annoying antics he couldn’t be sure. 

“We played hearthstone until he became agitated and began to throw the cards. I...locked him down in the back chamber to await your return.” 

He nodded then made a motion indicating she was free to go. She wouldn’t go far, at most she’d go to the bedchamber she and Right shared slightly down the hall. Within earshot, should he need them. 

His chambers were split into three areas. The front area was a traditional bedchamber and sitting room, done in reds and blacks, There was a large bed, draped in silks and with curtain that could be drawn as he saw fit, and then sitting area formed by a few opulent rugs and large plush pillows tossed onto them. He liked to keep things minimal, as his pet was prone to breaking things. The second area was a bathing chamber, basically consisting of a large hole in the ground that had been lined with tiles and had water pumped in from one of the sources around the mountain, heated by the lava as it flowed to his chambers.

The back chamber was the largest, big enough for an adult dragon to sleep and move about. There were no furnishings, save a cage that had been there all along. 

He made his way to the back, clucking disapprovingly as what he found. His pet, his prize, was crouched inside the cage; a strange spot of golden light among the dimness of the room. 

Anduin looked up, blue eyes bright with righteous fury. Today was going to be a fight, Wrathion could tell just from the human’s expression. He smiled slightly; the difficult days had a certain charm. They let him let out the dragon, as it were. 

“I understand you were being difficult today.” He said, slowly walking closer to the cage. Anduin was wearing loose black linen pants, simple slippers, and a heavy black dragonscale collar, which was connected to a thick length of chain, the other end of which was connected to the floor of the cage. Wrathion supposed it was unsavory, having his pet in dragonscale, but something about it thrilled him.

Anduin bared his teeth and growled lowly. Wrathion knew what the human was thinking; he would summon the light and once and for all end him, then return to Stormwind to expose all that had been done. 

But it would never happen. Summoning the light caused Anduin rather intense pain and the amount it would take to put a dent in Wrathion would burn Anduin to ash first. That did leave Shadow for the human to summon as a means of defense, but just as the light hurt the call of the darkness seduced. When Anduin dared to summon it...well. The effect was usually not what was intended. He remember the first time fondly, when Anduin had gone from trying to fight him to trying to fuck him with the perverabile flip of a switch.

Wrathion enjoyed the dark days too, though he sometimes worried about his pet’s clearly fractured personality. But he understood it sometimes happened with the undead, and considering what a special case Anduin was...oddities were to be expected. 

An unholy union of chemicals, valkyrie magic, and Wrathion’s own considerable magic were what animated the body and mind of Anduin Wrynn, and the interesting results never ceased to amaze, and at times amuse, him. 

He reached through the bars, cuping the cool cheek of his pet. Warmer than most undead but still cooler than the living. Anduin wouldn’t rot, wouldn’t fall apart, and wouldn’t age; but he’d also never wield the light, taste food and drink as he once had, or be accepted back into his homeland. 

Not that it mattered. Everyone believed Anduin dead, burned to dust in the burning of the Undercity. The only people who knew differently were himself, Left, Right, and the Dark Lady, and he’d seen to the latter. He’d enjoyed teaming up with her, making grand promises if she’d only help him kill and then reanimate his human lover (she hadn’t realized he’d meant the Prince of Stormwind, who hadn’t actually been his lover at all). He’d also enjoyed betraying her, ripping out her throat and tongue so she could never speak of it, and then bringing her to the humans to be killed. 

The blond lashed out, smacking his hand away, and retreating deeper into his cage. 

“You’ll be glad to know the war between the humans and the Forsaken should be over soon enough. The Forsaken will be totally wiped out by time time your father is done.” 

Anduin didn’t look glad; in fact he winced and a dark haunted expression formed on his face. It pained him to hear of all the blood spilled in his name. 

“I’ve also heard rumor your father will be proposing to that elf girl that follows him around.” Blue eyes narrowed. “It makes sense when you think of it. He is without an heir and if something were to happen before he had more children it could throw the kingdom into turmoil.”

This was met with a bemused smile but no direct response. Instead “Leave me to rot Wrathion. I have no desire to be your plaything today.” 

The dragon snorted. He withdrew the key to Anduin’s cage and unlocked the door, enjoying the way the other man tensed before pressing as far back into the cage as he could get. 

“You know. You could come to the front room willingly.” 

There was a flash of gold from Anduin’s hand and then a slice of pain hit Wrathion. It was brief and far from the worst the human had ever dished out, but annoying none the less. Anduin howled, doubling over in pain as tears sprang to his eyes. Wrathion sprang forward, pain already forgotten, and delivered a kick to the hunched over man, hard enough that he was sure he felt ribs snap.

No matter. they would be healed by morning. One of the perks of being what Anduin was. 

Another kick and a punch to the face that brought forth blood (in so far as Anduin had blood. It was a black viscous liquid that flowed sluggishly) and reduced his pet to shallow wheezing breaths. He stared down at the blond for a moment, considering the man he’d once considered his closest friend. 

Finally he grabbed a handful of golden hair and forced his pet onto his stomach. He made short work of Anduin’s pants then lowered himself onto the smaller body, resting on the back of his thighs. The human had gone perfectly still, not out of fear of course (Anduin feared nothing) but because he knew that Wrathion liked when he fought back and thrashed about. 

He ran a hand over one pale globe, smiling slightly. “Do you know what I like about you most of all Anduin?”

Wrathion shifted his weight slightly as he spoke in order to push his own trousers low enough to free his already rigid cock. The human was silent, defiant. No matter, while he enjoyed banter he also knew that he had to deal with silence sometimes. He let the moment stretch on, opting instead to caress Anduin softly, as he sometimes did when the human was in his darker moods, and slowly pushing his fingers inside. Anduin was well prepared, as he always was (a handy, if not slightly unseemly, spell Wrathion had picked up). He moved leisurely, working sensitive spots and delighting in the noises his pet tried to choke down. 

Soon enough Anduin was as hard as he was and trembling beneath him. 

“I like that you’re always fighting back. Even when you just lay there its about defying me. It doesn’t matter if I take you dry and claw your back open or take it slow and make you enjoy it. Even when you aren’t yourself and you beg for it you are, deep inside, cursing me.” He lined himself up and slowly sank into his pet, sighing at the cool tightness squeezing him. “You won’t be broken.” 

Well, the fractured personalities aside. That was clearly a little broken. 

He pulled Anduin’s hips up slightly to achieve a better angle then began thrusting, setting a slow, almost lazy, pace. Anduin made a noise that was close to a sob and then, again, silence. For a time the only sounds were flesh against flesh and their mingled, strained, breathing. 

“I have been thinking much on the future.” The dragon said finally, feeling his completion on the horizon. “I would like to expand beyond this mountain. Have a brood of my own. My brother had some theories on making the non-dragon races capable of carrying our children but without the oddities that tend to plague halfbreeds.” Dragonkin, for example. Such unsightly brutes. “Unfortunate but needed, considering our dwindling ranks at the time.” 

He reached for Anduin’s cock, finding it hard and weeping. He began to stroke it in time with his other movements, smiling as he felt the human shudder beneath him. Neither of them would be lasting much longer. 

“I have decided that, considering your unique nature, as a former mortal who is now effectively eternal, and healing abilities you would be a fantastic specimen to try these theories on.” His pet cried out, a mixture of protest and pleasure, and then shuddered. He clenched around Wrathion who, after a few more hard shallow thrusts, followed him over the edge. He emptied himself into the twitching body of his pet then slumped forward. 

He stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the feel of the other man, until he had softened. He removed himself from his pet and rose to his feet, arranging himself neatly. 

“I’ll bring you a meal shortly. It will be very important to keep you fed and healthy for what’s to come.” 

“I will expose everything you’ve done.” Anduin’s voice was soft, but nonetheless serious and full of rage. Wrathion just smiled. 

 

00000

Wrathion turned away from the mirror, bile rising in the back of his throat. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled towards the basin kept next to his bed. He wasn’t sure what was worse: what he’d witnessed or the fact that even though he was disgusted and horrified and hated it...that he’d watched all the way to the end and that his body had reacted. 

He splashed cold water onto his face.

Was that who he was?


End file.
